Diary Entry

You know, sometimes being a food writer makes this whole diet thing tough. Companies send me foods to test, and I can't just assume they taste good and pass that along to you. What's even harder, though, is the cookbooks.

Case in point: The nice folks at Lodge Mfg. sent me a couple of their cookbooks chock full of recipes for my very favorite cast iron pans. These are, by and large, not "skinny" recipes, and the full review will be coming in an upcoming Short Orders. If the Overnight French Toast (made with half and half) is any indication, though, it's going to be a fun testing process.

But, hey, what's life without a few challenges? I just think of the Diary as my "other" job, and for this job I get to "sample" all kinds of exercise and ways to eat healthy!

Sometimes, It's Funny

Weight loss is a serious process. We are all trying to accomplish a hideously difficult feat that, in many cases, will quite honestly save our lives. We sweat, we groan, and no one ever hands us a medal for the willpower we exert passing up that Snickers (or, in my case, Take 5) bar in the checkout lane.

But, it has its funny moments, right? How about the time you tried to slim down that cream gravy recipe and ended up with lumpy milk? Or the time the treadmill seized up from your weight on it and you almost went headfirst through the TV?

OK, maybe those were just me, but I know some of you out there have some similar experiences.

Need some inspiration? Here's a bit that a reader named Duke sent me in response to a comment I made long ago about "furniture abuse." It's long, but worth reading.

Yes, I too abused furniture. As a portly eighth-grader at Immaculate Conception Catholic School, I also wore out the inner thighs of my husky-plus Sears "Tuffskins" jeans through the friction generated by walking. Patches could help that, but nothing could patch up the furniture abuse fiasco of eighth grade. It was one of the most protracted episodes of embarrassment I ever had as a kid.
I broke a school desk. By sitting in it. Sitting in it just like all the other kids in class, except I weighed more than maybe any other two kids in class combined (except for Elaine, a big girl herself).
I remember sitting in Sister Mary's Greek mythology class reading about Hercules clearing out the "dung and muck" of the horse stalls when I heard a distinctive metal "SNAP!" and then a slow, anguished CRRRREEEAAAAAAAAKKKKK! The welded joints of the desk gave way. I couldn't believe this was happening to me. Why me? Why not Elaine? I started sweating, hoping, pleading that no other student heard the snap and creak.
Thank goodness I had strong leg muscles. You won't believe this, but I held the squat posture, taking all the pressure off the remaining feeble metal desk structure, for FIVE MINUTES! If I weren't so fat, I could have been a jockey in horse races.The desk top was balanced and kept in place by my elbows, and the lone metal support that held the desk top to the wooden seat was anchored by my knees. The seat section was kept in place by sheer will and wind. I perspired and trembled throughout this ordeal, but I vowed that I would not let it be known that I had broken a school desk. A school desk. Designed to last for generations of miscreants. Designed to endure the turmoil of graffiti, detention, and even the year-end homeroom desk race. I broke a school desk while reading about Greek mythology!
Then it started. The whispers.
"He broke his desk!" I heard from someone behind me. A snicker. Another snicker. All bets were off by then. How could I rescue myself from further humiliation? I thought of how Elaine would celebrate this turn of events. This would crown me king of the fatties, taking pressure off her until, well until she broke a desk or bathroom toilet or something with her girth.
My mind tried to come up with a way to put an end to this tension. Oh Hercules, help me! My legs felt like anvils. Out of fatigue, I stood up straight and pretended to stretch. Predictably, the shambles of desk furniture fell in every direction. The seat fell behind me, the writing surface fell face forward, and the metal supports, liberated from their welding, cascaded with a loud CLANG every which way. As much as I tried to act surprised, it couldn't be hidden that I was the first and only person at Immaculate Conception to demolish a school desk while just trying to get an A in Greek mythology. Elaine never topped it. -- Duke in Oklahoma

Did that jog loose a memory? Was it a funny one? Well, right now, while it's fresh in your mind, tell me about it and you just might be immortalized in an upcoming Diary!